I loll near the edge of the bed, humming, deliciously well fucked and feeling sinuous and lithe and a little delirious: drunk again, of course, but drunk with sex, with Kaja and our lovely new toy. Oh, he is lovely. I slide my head around enough to look at his muscular body. He has a hairy chest, which is more Kaja's taste, but oh it's blond, he is so completely and beautifully blond, even his pubic hair, and it sets off his big smooth cock quite nicely. To look at this man's skin is to make your mouth water to taste it. And I think he looks like Sting, although Kaja told me earlier in the bar that I was seeing things. I think he looks a lot like Sting. Let me see things. Let there be things, and I will see them, and I'll say they're skookum. And his eyes are not too pretty, not too blue, and his mouth is delectable, so that's all right. Oh, it's more than all right.

I'm lightly exhausted, a little light-headed, actually, and so I relax and close my eyes and listen to the silk sounds of skin sliding against skin as Kaja kisses down the length of his body and now she must be delicately licking just around his balls to tease him because I hear his breathing hitch and change, and I feel an empathetic clenching in my cunt, and without thinking about it I spread my legs and feel the warm, sex-drenched air against my (by this point) slightly swollen but deliciously satisfied bichi. Ahh, I could do it again, feel him smoothly and tirelessly pounding his cock into me and out of me again and again . . . but not just yet. It's Kaja's turn.

I keep my eyes closed. I can hear him beginning to move and moan, and the soft wet sounds that must be Kaja's mouth engulfing his marble-hard, velvet-warm cock, and I know it must taste of me, and I open my legs wider yet against the empathetic rush of moisture inside, and my clit feels so big, so insistent, almost whimpering against the air, but I won't touch, I want to think about it for awhile.

And as I lie there, listening to the moist murmurings and his soft wondering sounds of delicious torment, my attention draws down and coalesces like smoke around my clit, and my mind is filled with it, bigger than life and twice as horny, firm and slightly swollen and yearning. I am dimly aware of thrusting against the air, slow rising and then the turning of my hips as I fall again, and my clit yanks my attention back to it, and suddenly I understand that a clit has a cock-like nature at its straining heart, that these two things begin the same in the womb, and strive always to be reunited - and I can feel what it would be like, bigger, longer, hard, twitching with eagerness to plunge, to be engulfed in the tightness, the wetness.

My eyes are closed, but now I behold the bodies next to me, I clearly see his fine rigid cock as Kaja nibbles at its tip with her lips. And there in the perfect surreality behind my eyelids I draw with my will a fire line, a glowing streak like captive lightning, from the center of my clit to the center of his cock. I am holding my breath. Can it be done?

"Magic do as you will," I murmur, and TUG on the fire line.

And my eyes snap open onto the ceiling and I am lying there, yearning, on my back, and my wild hopes crash to earth. I glance to my left to see my lovers - and stare stupidly at the wall.

I swivel my head, raising it up off the bed. I am lying there, legs open, seemingly asleep, breathing deeply and evenly - over there.